


“Not so close, Mister."

by sin_tm



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: F/M, mark lee - Freeform, nct - Freeform, nct mark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-10 10:35:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11689866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sin_tm/pseuds/sin_tm
Summary: Mark wants to take care of you when you’re sick, but you’re scared of making him sick too. Self-indulgent fluff basically.





	“Not so close, Mister."

**Author's Note:**

> Wow guess who’s sick : )) but this was fun to write anyway, the first thing I’ve ever written abt mark, i hope its in character. Enjoy x
> 
> (Ao3 note: You can also read this over at my tumblr, @sageok there. Just so you know its the same person, not a repost)

Your nose made a terrible honking sound as you blew it into a tissue. Grimacing, you threw the now soiled piece of paper on the floor, not bothering to aim for the overflowing garbage can anymore. Sighing, you collapsed back down onto the couch and let out a drawn out groan. You knew you tended to be dramatic when you were sick, so you were almost glad there was no one around to see you in your nest of self pity and used tissues.

*ding*

Your phone lit up, a notification from a text message appearing.

“I’m so excited to see you again<3 I can’t wait until tomorrow”

“Shit,” You mumbled. In your sickly haze, you had completely forgotten about the plans you had with your boyfriend, Mark. It had been about a month since you two had gotten to spend some real quality time together, just the two of you. Your schedule was pretty flexible, thank god, but his wasn’t at all. He was constantly writing or practicing choreography or studying or on the road; among other things. Finally, he had a whole day free and you had come down with something.

“About that, I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it tomorrow..” You texted back, grimacing as you typed. He responded almost immediately.

“All day? What happened? Did something come up at work?”

“No, i just think i’m coming down with something is all. I can’t get you sick.”

“I’ll be over as soon as I can.”

“Nooo,” You moaned, frantically typing up a response.

“No! You don’t have to, I’m fine.”

No response.

“Especially not tonight! What about the new choreo? You need as much practice as you can get!!”

Still nothing.

“Mark Lee I w i l l throw myself off a bridge if I get you stick. What will you do then, huh?”

“I’m not gonna get sick, I promise.” Finally the reply came.

“No!! You can;t promise that. Your debut is soon you can’t chance it!

“It’s okay, trust me Y/N, I at least wanna see how you’re doing.”

“I won’t let you in.”

“Yes you will ;)”

“Am not”

“Are too.”

“:p”

~`~`~`~`

A knock on your apartment door jolted you awake, making you jump. You racked your brain but couldn’t remember falling asleep. You turned on your phone, which had been laying on your chest. The time was 9:45pm. You had been asleep for 4 hours. Letting your a small groan, you lay your head back on the couch. The knock sounded at the door again. Then you remembered, it was Mark.

“Go away,” You called, your voice coming out weaker and raspier than you expected. That was bad, it would only make him more determined to see you. There was a moment of silence, then the sound of a key being rattled around in the lock. The deadbolt slid open with a thunk. You had forgotten about his key, you had given it to him just a month before so he could hang out in your apartment while he waited for you to get home from night classes.

You popped your head over the back of the couch so you could see him as he entered your house. He had a mask covering the lower half of his face, and was dressed in a plain white sweatshirt and jeans. He had a shopping bag in one hand and his worn old backpack in the other. A baseball cap covered his brown hair, but he took it off as soon as he closed the door, setting it on a nearby table. He set his bag gently on the ground near the door and reached to take off his mask. 

“Don’t you do it. Keep that mask on your face or I swear to god I will kick you out.” His head turned towards you and you saw his eyes crinkle up as he smiled behind the mask. He laughed as he saw the top of your head peeking up from behind the couch. You were sure your hair was a rats nest, and had a sneaking suspicion that was why he was laughing.

“If you insist,” His words were slightly muffled as he spoke, but you were satisfied as he left the mask on, leaving only his eyes visible. At least he had a little bit of protection from you. He picked up his bags again and moved them to your kitchen table. He spoke as he began to take the items out of the shopping bag. “I stopped at the store on the way here, I texted to see if you wanted anything special, but guess you were asleep, so I just got you the usual.” Everything was out on the counter now, and he pointed to each item as he listed them off. “Ginger ale, saltines, tissues, medicine, cough drops, and soup.” You perked up at this, lifting yourself up a little to see what kind it was. Your favorite and his. Seeing you show some interest in him made his eyes crinkle up again, he knew he was gaining ground with you. He started towards the couch where you were sprawled, but you turned so your back was to him.

“Nuh-uh, not so close.” You wonder at how gravely your voice sounded. He wouldn’t be able to perform if he sounded like this. He didn’t heed your warning, though. Crouching down beside you, he reached his hand out and held the back of it against your forehead. Or at least the small part of it he could reach since you were turned away.

“Aw, you’re so warm,” He said softly, reaching his hand up to stroke your hair.

“Noo, I’m fine,” You whined, trying to snuggle further into the couch.

“Come on,” He said, “Just let me help, I’ll be careful, I promise. I’ll wash my hands like a million times.” His voice was so gentle as he said this, you felt your chest tighten. This, combined with the gentle stroking of your hair, broke you. You turned half way around, just enough to look him in the eyes.

“When’s your next show? You won’t be able to sing if you sound like this.” You questioned, your voice slightly accusatory.

“Not for another week and a half, that’s plenty of time.” He said. You contemplated this for a moment before finally turning around.

“Fine, but no kissing. Or cuddling. And you have to keep your mask on.” You said, your voice firm despite the creakiness. His eyes lit up and he ruffled your hair as he stood up

“What about the soup?” He questioned playfully.

“Mmm, fine. You gotta eat fast though.”

“Deal,” He said, reaching out his pinky finger to interlock it with yours for a moment. Then he got up and walked back to the kitchen area, preparing the cups of soup for the microwave. “Plus, even if I do get sick, having that voice would just make my rap part sound cooler I think.”

“Mark!”

“I’m kidding,” He said with a giggle, obviously amused at getting you to relent to his caring advances. He peeled the plastic top off one of them, placing it in the microwave. “When’s the last time you ate?

“Uhh, this morning I think?”

“Y/N!” He scolded, mocking your tone from before.

“To be fair I was asleep for a lot of that time,” You said in your defence. Pulling yourself up into a sitting position, you stretched your arms above your head. “I’m gonna go change into sweats.” You called, beginning to stand up. Your head spun slightly, but you thankfully remained balanced on the way to your room.

“Okay, be careful,” He said, obviously having noticed your unsteady start.

“I’m fine,” you whined as you made your way down the small hallway that led to your bedroom. As you changed out of your jeans and into your comfiest pajama bottoms, you realized you were glad he had come. You did feel pretty weak, you didn’t even know if you would have had the energy or motivation to make yourself soup. Not to mention you didn’t have any in the house, besides what Mark himself had brought. He was too sweet, and you’d have to remember to do something nice for him once you were better. He always had so much to do, he was overworked to hell. It was surprising he was even awake right now, he had probably gotten up at five in the morning, or some equally ungodly hour. Yet he still had the energy to come make soup for you, you were very lucky.

His manager had been hinting at Mark “graduating” from NCT Dream soon, and you were counting down the days. Even just him not having to keep up on practicing all the songs and dances for that band would be a weight off his shoulders. God knows he deserved it.

Soon, you had finished changing and washing up. Stumbling back into the main room, you found Mark already with two bowls of soup set on the coffee table, with a glass of ginger ale for you and a redbull for him.

“Babe, it’s like ten o’clock. Why are you drinking a redbull?” You asked, turning to Mark. He looked up from where he was taking his laptop out of his bag. Shrugging, he gave you a sheepish grin.

“I’ve got an English essay I haven’t even started,” He said, a little guiltily.

“Mark!”

“I know I know, I just want to get the outline done at least.” He reassured you, tucking his laptop under his arm and walking to the couch, sitting down heavily. “But first we gotta eat,” You agreed to this, sitting down next to him, only to smack his thigh as he attempted to scoot closer to you.

“Not so close, mister.” He gave you a pout, but remained a good foot away from you nonetheless. Satisfied, you grabbed the bowl of soup and held to your chest. The heat from the bowl was comforting, and you held it close as you ate. Mark pulled his mask down so it rested on his chin and scooped up his bowl. You two made light conversation between sips, him telling you about school and how his new choreography was doing. You telling him about your own schooling, as well as the latest gossip from your part-time job. Once you were done eating, you turned on the tv, putting it on closed captioning as not to bother the boy sitting next to you. He had put the bowls away, and now had his mask back on, thanks to a little more nagging from you.

Despite your earlier protest, you were soon slouched against his arm, your eyelids feeling heavier by the minute as you watched the nature documentary playing on the tv in front of you. “I thought you didn’t wanna get so close,” Mark said slyly, eyeing your head resting against him.

“Don’t open your mouth, the germs will come in,” You murmured, snuggling your head further into his arm. You sighed contentedly, which soon turned into a yawn. The medicine he had brought you was making you drowsy. This, along with the rhythmic tapping of the keys on Mark’s keyboard, and the soothing documentary playing on TV, was lulling you into a sleep. “Really though,” You all but whispered, “Thank you for taking care of me, I feel better already.” You could hear the smile in his words as he replied.

“Thanks for letting me help you,” He said softly. You smiled, warmth filling your chest. With a very unladylike grain, you pulled yourself up so you were at face level with him, and placed a small kiss on the mask where his mouth would be. As you slouched back down into the couch, he let out a fit of giggles.

“I thought you said no kissing,” He asked. Weakly, you attempted to slap it arm, but it manifested as more of a light tap.

“I changed my mind,” You murmured, letting your eyes fall closed.

Prologue:

“She’s coming for you buddy! You better hide!” Johnny called down the hallway as you stalked through the hallways of the SM building. A yelp was audible from down the hall and you saw the door to the boys’ usual practice room close with a slam.

“Mark!” you called down after him, throwing open the door as soon as you reached it. Inside, he was hiding half behind Yuta, who was laughing his ass off at Mark’s fear. “You’re sick,” You accused him, pointing a finger at him.

“No I’m not, it’s just allergies I swear!” He cried, trying to shield himself behind Yuta. The older boy laughed and stepped out of your way. Looking betrayed, Mark sent an accusatory “Hey!” at the older boy.

“You’re sick, I told you. I knew you would get sick.”

“Listen, I’m fine,” He tried to explain, but a bought of coughing racked his body. You turned to Yuta.

“I’m taking him home.”

“Sure thing,” Yuta said, still chuckling at you and Mark’s antics. You nodded, taking Mark by the hand and leading him back out of the building.

“The bosses aren’t gonna be happy,” You caught Johnny mumbling to Yuta as you walked away, Mark in tow.

“Eh, the kid deserves a break, I’ll cover for him.” At this you cracked a small smiled, turning to give Yuta a thumbs up, which he returned in all seriousness.


End file.
